Bring Him Home
by storm-stellar
Summary: A one-shot Steve-centric fic, around the time where he's just woken up from ice and realizes that Peggy is not with him. He finds her, but not in the way that he wants to.


So I've been meaning to write a Steve-centric fic for a very, very long time now, and this is what I came up with. It's a huge, huge cliche, but hopefully this works for some.

Also, it will be very, very useful if you listen to the song "Bring Him Home" by the Piano Guys on youtube, mainly because that's what I was listening to when I wrote this. It's not a must, but it'll help~ And besides, the Piano Guys are awesome. No, they're not sponsoring me or anything, but they are awesome.

I don't own Avengers. (sob)

* * *

"How many would you like, sir?" He glances at the colours that he's chosen, and takes a deep breath.

"5 of each, thank you," he gives a small smile to the florist, reaching for his wallet as she smiles warmly in return, "and is it alright if there's a little space left for a letter?" She nods, and he waits, watching the flowers wrapped impeccably. A beautiful bow, and the florist cannot help but admire her own handiwork.

"She's a very lucky girl," the florist comments as Steve takes the bouquet into his hands, "I'm sure she'll love them." He says nothing, and gives a small smile, leaving the shop as calmly as he can. Once outside, he feels for the letter in his jacket. Ascertaining its presence, he takes a deep breath, and makes his way to the graveyard.

His steps feel rather heavy, and he slows down. As he passes, he notices smiling couples, fingers interlocked, making their way down the street. He smiles for them, feeling a surge of sadness as he celebrates their happiness on his own. He crosses the gate leading to the graves, and starts to make his way to hers.

He finds it, with 'Margaret "Peggy" Carter' carved into black marble with gold lettering. He finds it strangely apt, and sits down in front of her grave. Before he can even lean over to trace her name, he feels a dull ache. Placing the bouquet down, he starts to place his fingers on M. As he moves, the ache grows. No longer a dull ache, but a sharp pain. A few tears start to blur his vision, but he doesn't make a move to stop himself. As he comes to 'Peggy', his fingers start to shake, but continues to trace her name. Silent tears becoming small cries, and he swallows the urge to cry even harder as he reaches 'Carter'. He looks at her name, letting the reality of her death sink in. Bringing his knees closer to his chest, he rests his chin on them, just looking, crying silently. His hand reaches for the letter, and takes it out.

"You know…I'm not sure i-if this is the right time to say this," he talks to the silent grave, "but I think that if _we_, were given that opportunity," he unfolds the letter from its envelope, "we would've been great. Really great."

"I didn't have the chance to see you, to talk to you, but I hope that this would suffice," Steve adjusts his position to lean against her headstone, "I wrote this the night that I woke up, when I came back from the ice." Clearing his throat and taking another deep breath, he opens his eyes, and starts to read.

* * *

Dear Peggy;

There are just so many things to say, and, truth be told, I don't know if I can finish saying all I want to with a letter. It's clichéd, but I just don't know if I can express what I'm feeling with words in a letter. It just feels like such a blur, even though those last moments were so clear. I remember everything that happened, every word that you said.

A week from then, Saturday evening, 8pm at the Stork Club, you said. You were saying that I had to get there on the dot, and also, "Don't you dare be late". I hope you forgive me.

I remember your kiss as well. Trust me when I say that I was stunned, but really, really happy you did that. I don't really know how else to put it, just that for a while, I kind of forgot I was in a car and about to hijack an aircraft. I wanted to ask you for a dance right there at the moment, but I think it would have been inappropriate.

I also remember what I said before I landed. I'm not sure if you heard me, so I think I'll just tell you now, what I said and did.

I'd get the band to play something slow, and that I'd hate to step on your toes. With you as my partner, I'd have then learned how to treat a lady. I looked at my compass, and just looked at you.

'I love you, Peggy Carter.'

I really hope that you heard those words. And, well, even if you didn't, I think you know that that was what I was trying to say.

I still have the compass with me now. It's in my pocket as I write this. When I was retrieved from the ice, SHIELD (they're the ones who got me out) they decided to salvage the aircraft, and found the compass. Your picture's in there, and it's still intact. I'm not sure if you saw it when the advertisement for buying war bonds was playing, but I really hope you didn't. I wanted to keep that a secret until I had the guts to ask you out for a dance myself.

I would've gotten the band to play something slow, and you'd teach me how to dance. I'd take your hand, and you'd teach me patiently, slowly. I'd step on your toes once or twice, and you'd just laugh it off, continuing the dance. By the end of the night, I'd know how to treat a lady like you. I'd walk you home, and show you the compass as we walked. You'd laugh and tease me, but I think you would've liked it. Before you went home to sleep, I'd stop you. Tell you that I'd found the right partner, and give you a kiss goodnight.

I miss you, Peggy, and I love you. I'm not sure where you are now, but wherever you are, I hope you're safe, and that you're happy. It's been 70 years, but just know that I love you, and I miss you, very, very much.

Always yours,

Steve.

* * *

He folds the letter again, fingers shaking as he places the letter back into the envelope. Wiping his eyes, he takes another deep breath, letting his head rest as he closes his eyes. He can't help but wonder if, he was still enough, she'd be there with him, behind him, listening as he read out his letter to her, smiling, giving him a hug as he read. He pulls the red, white and lavender bouquet towards him, and he hopes she understands what he's trying to say.

As he seals the envelope, he feels a breeze, drying his eyes for him. He smiles and places the envelope among the roses, and places a hand on the cold marble. He kisses the headstone, and, feeling the unnatural warmth, knows that she understands.

"Goodnight, Peggy. I'll dance with you when I can."

* * *

Reviews are very, very welcome. :D


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